


In one kiss, you'll know all I haven't said

by anshewrites



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Don't Judge Me, Drunk Sansa Stark, Drunken Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jealous Jon Snow, Jon Snow is Not a Targaryen, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Minor Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Past Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Protective Jon Snow, Protective Robb Stark, Romantic Fluff, dickon tarly is a sweetheart, harry hardyng is a little shit, i just wanted to write some fluff, it's a mix of the show and the books, it's mostly flirting and banter, minor sansa stark/dickon tarly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-30 09:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17221634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anshewrites/pseuds/anshewrites
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and ace student Sansa Stark has had a great year. She is at the top of her class in the Daeron School of Political Science, she, grew closer to her big brother (and now protector) Robb, she made awesome new friends and was adjusting perfectly to the change moving from cold, icy Winterfell to the bright King's Landing.With her family in town, this holiday season was supposed to be perfect for Sansa, but life is not a song. But life, Sansa would learn, has funny ways to show us what we need; and sometimes, what we need is way better that what we ever dreamt of.





	In one kiss, you'll know all I haven't said

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> I'm so sorry for the long abscence, a couple of things happened that kept me from writing.  
> But I'm back!! And thought I'd write a short fluffly piece, just in time for New Year's.  
> The title is a quote by one of my favourite writers, Pablo Neruda. His poetry is absolutely beautiful, so check it out!  
> 

"Come on, Margaery. We're going to be late!" Sansa reminded her friend for the twelfth time in the last thirty minutes.

"Well, yeah, Sans. That's the point" her friend replied, her voice an echo finding its way to the small living-room.

"We don't want to be punctual, we want to fashionably late" added Loras, Margaery's younger brother, sitting in one of the dining chairs, scrolling down his phone. The Tyrell siblings were socially savvy as they were beautiful. And they are _really_ beautiful. "But you are forgiven because -"

"You're from the North" screamed Margaery from her room, trying to finish her brother's sentence. Sansa could picture the bright smile in her face as she said that.

"You guys know that Winterfell is not made of ice, right? And that we don't live secluded from people?" she retorted as she rolled her eyes. The siblings would always taunt her with how different she was from southenerns. _"You could totally pass for someone from the Riverlands or even the Reach, but the moment you open your mouth, well, that gives it away that you're a northener"_ Margaery had told her once, in the early stages of their friendship.

When she first arrived at Aegon University, she had a hard time making friends. She's naturally reserved and missed her friends back home, especially Jeyne. But she found a great friend in Margaery. She first met Margaery in her Political Theory class and has since "been under her wing" as her friend puts it. Both Loras and his sister taught her "the Southern way" to do things. Sansa realized it was not just the climate or the scenery that differentiate the North from the South. It was the people, their way of thinking, their way of doing things. And even if the lesson they taught her was really about how to deal with boys, which trends to follow and how to get invited to the coolest parties, Sansa saw a deeper meaning in it. She always did. That was the reason she was a Political Science undergrad. She knew that something as simple as a word or an action is way more than just that. An action, simple as it may be, could wield great power. Words could easily work as a veil or be what they were intended to be, and Margaery understood this. She comes from a very powerful industrial family, she knows all about words, actions and power. The Queen of Thornes is her grandmother, after all.

"OK, I just had the greatest idea for next Halloween" Margaery exclaimed, coming out of her room in her green bathrobe, barefeet and with her make-up half done. "I'm a genius. We get you a blonde wig and bam, you're Elsa. And I'll be your Anna. I tell you, I'm a gen-"

"I'm going to stop right there" Sansa interrumped her friend before she got too excited by the idea. "It's a hard pass on that one. I'll never hear the end of bad Frozen puns" she quickly added when she saw her make what Loras dubbed "the little rose" face. She'd always make that face when she wanted something, ever since she was a little girl. Since then, that face had seen fair its share of successs.

"Besides, Frozen costumes are so 2014" Loras added, winking at Sansa. Margaery's idea of a Frozen revival wouldn't see the light. 

"You guys are no fun" she grumbled, slowly walking back to her room.

"And you're making us late" 

 

* * *

 

 

After waiting thirty minutes in their aparment for Margaery to get ready, plus the forty five-minute ride (with various agurments in favor of an Elsa-Anna ensamble for next Halloween from Margaery) from the apartment to the house of the Harry guy that was throwing the party, it was official: they were late.

The house wasn't a house, but a post modern-style mansion. There was a fountain just in the middle of the driveway, surrounded by beautiful flowers brought from all the corners of Westeros. There were even some essosi wild flowers. The whole scenery screamed _money_. The three of them looked at the house, then at each other, then back at the house.

Margaery was the first to snap out of the beauty of the facade. "OK, Jeyne Westerling told me this guy, Harry Hardyng, is like the heir of Arryn Mountain Woods or something like that" she started to explain.

"But since he is new to the game" Loras continued, looking around him.

"And has lots money and space to spare" Margaery said with a grin.

"He now wants to surround himself with the best of Aegon University" Loras finished, looking completely pleased with himself.

"But have you even met him?" Sansa inquired.

"I've seen pictures of him" Margaery replied. "Those baby blue eyes..." she sighed.

"But how do we know he's not... you know..." she continued, gesticulating with her hands.

"A werido? A creep?" Loras finished the sentence for her. "Sans, I admit you got a point" said with more seriousness than what their current conversation required.

"Oh Gods, what if he is one of those who's into feet?" Margaery muttered, "I don't know if I can handle that" horror written on her face.

"Well, if he's one of those, worry not, dear sister" Loras consoled her with a melodramatic, jesting tone. "You have ugly feet" that had earned Loras a slap on the arm. Sansa couldn't help but laugh. She always loved it when the siblings jested. It reminded her of her own family, of home.

"Well, I didn't mean a foot fetish" she laughed, "but how about we go inside and see for ourselves?"

 When the trio headed arrived at the double-winged door they were received by a grey-haired man in a dark suit, with a not so amicable face.

"Names, please" inquired the man

"Margaery and Loras Tyrell and Sansa Stark" as always, Margaery was the voice of the group.

The grey-haired man looked at the list in his hand, and, after letting out a little sigh, opened the door for them.

If the facade had dazzled them, the interior of the mansion was a whole other thing. White marble floors, stone-colored walls covered with various abstract and cubist paintings, a great, crystal chanderlier that hanged in the center of the room, couches and chairs in cool shades of blue and a great crystal wall that made way to a pool. The room screamed opulence from wherever you saw it. Sansa didn't like it. 

There was jazz music playing in the background, and a whole group of people dressed in an elegant yet simple way, conversing and drinking wine that the Tyrell siblings and Sansa didn't know. 

It was in that moment that Sansa regretted listening to Margaery and wear the purple mini dress.

Shortly after, the host approached them and introduced himself.

"Hello and welcome to my humbling home" Harry started. "You must be Margaery and Loras. I've heard a great deal of the beautiful roses of Highgarden" he said with some sweetness in his tone. "And you must be Sansa, the beautiful winter rose of Winterfell". Sansa didn't like how he make them all sound like things valuable only on beauty and influence.

"You have a charming home, Harry" Margaery was quick to respond.

"Your garden up front is beautiful. I've never seen those flowers bloom outside the Reach" Loras added.

It seemed it was her turn to say something nice, even though she wasn't feeling the whole "I shit money" vibe of the place and the host. She was about to say something about the room, but she asked about a painting in the shades of blue and purple hanging near where they were standing instead.

"Georgia O'Keeffe, the Black Iris III. Beautiful, isn't it?" he said as he moved to her side. "You can feel the raw sensuality in the way she uses the colors" Harry said, almost in a whisper. 

She had a dire need to roll her eyes at the move Harry was trying to pull. _Ugh, just my luck, she thought._

"I like the colors, but I'm more into Impressionism and Romanticism. Monet, Bazille, Janmot, Friedrich..."

"I see" Harry laughed "Fine Arts undergrad, I gather?"

"Political Science, actually. Me and Margaery actually-" she turned around to say something to her, only to find out that she was gone. She could see Loras with what she thought it was a TA at the Naerys School of Fine Arts.

_Oh, well. It seems I'll have to do this on my own, she thought._

When she turned, she saw him, _really_ saw him: blond hair, baby blue eyes, perfect smile. The young, handsome, sweet, attentive heir. The guy every girl on campus would and most certainly will fall for. But behind those pretty eyes and perfect smile there was a cunning young man, probably used to get what he wants. And he was sweet, _too sweet_.

"Politics?" he sounded surprised. "I never thought a pretty girl that knows a lot about art like you would torment her pretty head with... arguing" he said with a charming smile.

 _Smug wasn't enough, he's also sexist._ "Oh, it's not arguing" she commented, starting to move around the room, with Harry quickly following her. "At least it isn't when it's done right" she smiled. "It's all about people. It's about everything that surrounds them" she continued as she took a look around the room "It's about being able to detect their wants, their needs, and the best way to make it all happen" she said as she moved closer to him. Harry was like a hawk, never taking his eyes off of her. "But..." she trailed off.

"But?"

"But it can also be about dangers and how to handle them, how to detect them and neutralize them, in way where nobody gets hurt. Sometimes you succeed, sometimes you don't" she continued, locking her eyes with his. He nodded and smiled. He seemed to catch what she was saying. She gave him another sweet smile. "I don't want to keep you from your hosting duty" she concluded.

He professed his wish to continue their conversation later in the evening, and left her with a very decorous, and very unnecesary kiss on the hand.

It was official: Sansa hated the guy.

She walked around the room some more, trying to find her friends, only to remain alone in a room full of strangers. But just when she was heading towards the gardens, she saw Margaery with two glasses of what were probably a couple of mojitos. "Marge, where have you been? You left me alone with that... that..." Sansa whispered, trying to calm herself. After all, it was not her friend she was angry at.

"With that hottie?" Margaery laughed.

"With that asshole!" Sansa replied as quietly as she could. "Give me that" she took the other glass and took a long sip.

"Hey, easy. We don't want another..." her friend looked around her before continuing "another Jon situation" Margaery couldn't help but giggle at the mention of Robb's best friend.

"Jon situation? Nothing happened that night" she was quick to reply, and even quicker to redden.

"If your definition of nothing is admitting through tears that you had a crush on him pretty much all of your childhood, then throw up, _then_ pass out, _then_ wake up the next morning _in his room_   while he assured you that you slept like a rock while he slept in the living-room and said he wished you were feeling better and that you two could pretend that what you said _never happened_..." she said, no longer holding back the laughter "OK, then, nothing happened" she took another sip of the mojito to stop laughing.

"OK, it's true that I'm not a heavy drinker and that sometimes, _sometimes,_ I get a little... soapy" she tried to tell Margaery, but she just kept on laughing. "But he took care of me and never brought it up, unlike some people I know" she pointed out, taking little sips from her glass.

"Oh no, he _would never_ do that. Jon Snow is the spitting image of chivalry perfection" she said in a melodramatic tone, similar to her brother's when he's teasing either of them. "You said that to me for forty minutes before you professed your love".

"Oh, shut up. It's been months since it happened and I want to forget about it. But I can't, because every time I drink something with alcohol in it you 'worry' about a Jon situation" she berated her friend.

"OK, no need to get all defensive, I'm just teasing" Margaery said while hugging her. "Besides, Jon Snow doesn't know shit if he can't see what a great, beautiful, smart young woman you are" she said, in all seriousness now. "So the veredict is final on Harry?" she asked, doing a one-eighty.

"Oh yeah. But don't get me started"

"To be honest, I truly don't know what I expected from the new guy" Margaery started, lifting one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows, "but it certainly wasn't this. I mean, who invites _professors_ to a party? I just saw Loras flirt with that TA from one of his classes".

"Well, he's not technically a professor, you just said he's a TA. And we definetely didn't dress for the occasion" Sansa said, looking down at her attire.

"Oh, honey, no. The occasion was not for us. We look great" her friend replied. Sansa was wearing one of Margaery's dresses, a long-sleeved purple mini dress with silver high heels. Margaery was wearing one of her favorite ensambles, a shimmery gold crop top with a matching high-waisted mini skirt with white-and-gold ankle boots. Both had their hair down, in a cascade of curls. 

 

* * *

 

 

An hour and fifty-four minutes had passed since their arrival, and after three mojitos, two daiquiris and two glasses of champagne, Margaery was alredy drunk. "This party is comatose. It's up to me to save it, it seems" she said a little clumsily and with a very serious tone.

"Everyone make way for Dr. Tyrell" Sansa yelled, equally as drunk as her friend. Soon enough, Margaery was dancing barefoot in the gardens along to one of her Spotify playlists. Sansa couldn't help but laugh out loud from one of the garden chairs she was seated on.

"I think your friend had the right idea" Sansa quickly turned around to see the man speaking. She never saw him before, but he looked familiar. He was tall, with brown hair and green eyes. His smile was a sweet little thing, nothing compared to Harry's. "This party looks like the ones my father throws" the young man continued, "not your friend dancing barefoot to... who's the artist singing the song? I'm awful with music, well, not with music in general, with trendy music. I... don't follow trends, I listen to the same twenty songs I love over and over" he explained. Sansa liked the way he tripped all over his words and the way his cheeks seemed to flush. Maybe it was time to do some rescuing.

"It's the same with me" Sansa admitted. "I really don't understand all the fuss about techno music" she said almost in a whisper, afraid of Margaery barging in to tell her that techno was a way to feel alive. "Just give me some guitars, a bass, a drum and I'm happy. I'm a simple girl with simple tastes".

"That's what I tell Sam" the stranger complained "just to give it a try to rock music, or even indy music. The lyrics are.." he paused; he tilted his head up and looked at the stars for a moment or two, "I'm no poet, I couldn't write a verse even if my life depended on it. But music? All I can't say I find it there, in the lyrics, in the melodies" Sansa could only hum in agreement. "But Sam, he's always with all that classical music crap" he said, exhasperated.

"Then Sam is totally missing out. But..." A sort of dizziness swarmed her mind. _I'm most definitely drunk, she thought, just when I found a nice guy to talk to._ "I like to be objective, so I'll say this: you can find plenty of inspiration in classical music, too"

The stranger opened his mouth, but then closed it. Then, he stared at her for a moment. In that little window of time, she could see that he was a little drunk, too "I'm Dickon, by the way" he said, offering his hand for a shake.

"Sansa" she responded as she took his hand on hers. "Do I know you? You look awfully familiar" she added.

"I don't think so, I'd _certainly_ remember you" Dickon answered. " _Not_... like that, I mean that you have a peculiar face, _not_ peculiar. Oh Gods" he lamented as he ran his hands over his face. Then he mumbled something but Sansa couldn't understand a thing.

"I can't... I didn't understand a word you just said" she said, laughing.

"A pretty face like yours would be hard to forget" he repeated. She could see the flush on his cheeks as he said it.

Sansa did what drunk Sansa does every time a guy pays her a compliment: giggle. Fortunately for her, Dickon joined in. After a few minutes of giggling like children, they stopped and looked at each other. The air around them grew heavy, and she could see that the moonlight did wonderful things with his eyes. But the enchanment was broken by Margaery.

"Sansaaa, come dance with me. I can't save this party alone, I need you" she begged.

"You know I don't dance to this music. Marge"

"I'll find some classic rock song, but only because I love you. And maybe handsome tall guy can join" she looked at Dickon as she were a lioness, ready for the kill.

"Easy, Marge, you don't want to scare him, now do you?"

Twenty minutes passed, and Margaery was back to dancing alone to some top charted song. And Sansa was drinking some wine with Dickon as they discussed the current state of the film industry and the revival of biopics.

"But you can't deny the charm of Arianne Martell. What she did when she played Queen Nymeria... I mean, it was out of this world. Out of this world!" Sansa argued.

"Yes, she rocked that role, but Daenerys Targaryen playing Dragonqueen Visenya... She was born to play that role. You can't deny that" Dickon countered.

"Let's just settle our little argument and say we are both right, since both women did spledid work in their respective roles".

"I... can live with that" he responded, raising his almost empty glass of wine. Sansa had a satisfactory grin across her face as she finished her glass of wine.

"This, it was fun" he said, suddenly sobering up.

"What, the party?" she laughed. She doesn't recall a worse party, not even back at Winterfell, where they had to go to someone's basement and drink sangria wine. At least those parties had the extra element of the forbidden.

"No, silly. This" he said, pointing his finger at her, then at himself.

"Yeah...It would be nice to do it some time again. If you like..." suddenly she sobered up, feeling all insecure.

"Ok, ehm, give me your phone and I give you mine and we'll exchange numbers" there it was again, the flush on his cheeks.

When the finished exchanging numbers, and Dickon was about to leave, Sansa finally recognized him. "You are on the rugby team" she pointed out. "My brother Robb is the scrum-half and Jon, he's the fly-half"

"You're Robb's little sister?" he said, astonished.  _Oh, Gods, she thought, I'll forever be known as "Robb's little sister"._ "Yeah, I remember you, you're on every match, you don't miss a single one" his smile was sweet and true. "Tell you what, we text each other, see when and where we can continue with our arguments about music and film, and I pray to the Gods your brother doesn't murder me" the last part earned him a chuckle from Sansa. "Sounds good?"

"Sounds great" she replied. _Did I just agree to go on a date with one of Robb's teammates? a little voice in her head said. It isn't half as bad as when you declared to Jon last September, said another voice, a sober voice._

Her head was pounding and she felt really dizzy. "Hey, Marge... Margaery" no response, everytime drunk Margaery started to dance, it was as if she was in a trance. She truly was a "dancing queen", as Loras and her called her. "Earth calling to Margaery Tyrell" she persisted.

"What? Is it done? Did I save it?" she was now frantically looking everywhere. There were some people dancing, but not enough to call Margaery's attempt to revive the party a success. "People are boring. And you" she prodded her "were drinking with handsome tall guy instead of helping me"

"You know I don't dance to that kind of music, Marge"

"Ugh, where is Loras when you need him?" Margaery said, plummeting in the chair previously occupied by Dickon.

"Speak of the Stranger"

"Hey girls" he took a moment to examine his sister and his friend. "You look like shit"

"We thank you for your honesty, Loras" Sansa replied.

"So, listen. I'm going to leave with someone" he looked over his shoulder, so obviously, Margaery did the same.

"Oh, the Stranger take me, seriously Loras? The TA?" Margaery all but yelled.

If there was something Loras was good at, was pretending. So pretending not to hear his sister was a piece of cake for him. "You guys can make it home?" he looked at Sansa.

"I'll call Robb. I'm sure he's-"

"No, don't call Robb. I don't want him to see me like this" Margaery interjected.

"Marge, are you-" Sansa didn't have the capacity to deal with the brand new information right now. "I'll just call Jon"

"Are you sure? Because Renly can drop you guys at the apartment"

"Loras" she said in all seriousness, "go, have fun. I'll call Jon"

He just sighed. He knew what Sansa felt for her brother's best friend. She had told him the night she saw him with his girlfriend, Ygritte, in her first night out in King's Landing. That same night, Loras opened up to her about all the boys he liked back in Highgarden but were "unrequited". _"The pain of unrequited love makes you stronger. It hurts like a bitch, I know, but after you get over it, or get used to it, nothing else hurts as much"_ he had told her that night.

"OK. Just be safe and-"

"Make sure to drink lots of water. Yes. Thank you, Loras. Now go" she urged him with a sweet smile.

"Love you both". And with that Loras was gone, hopefully to have a better time that the two friends, who were now drunk and in need of a ride.

 Once Loras was out of sight, she looked at her friend, who was using her shoulder as a pillow and humming what appeared to be a Disney song.

"Are you... are you singing "Do you want to build a snowman"? Sansa couldn't help but grin at the sight before her eyes.

"Yes" she replied in a childlike manner. "It's the least I can do since you don't want to dress as Elsa" she whined.

Sansa had the perfect words to answer her friend, but it would earn her a look, maybe a drunken rant on their way home. "Marge... the Frozen idea, maybe you should... let it go" she jested.

Sansa couldn't contain her laughter and Margaery mocked her. "You know, sometimes, you can be the worst" she scoffed.

"And I love you too" _Worth it._

After that, Margaery went back to placing her head on Sansa's shoulder, although she was humming another song. It was time to go home.

I promised myself I wouldn't do this again, Gods be damned, she said to herself. _It seems I'm destined to ridicule myself in front of him, she thought._

With a big sigh, she scrolled through her contacts and pressed the one she was searching for. It took several seconds for him to pick up. _Don't say anything embarrassing, she thought, don't make it embarrassing._

"Sansa?" his voice was gruff. _I must have woke him up, she thought_. "Are you alright, what happened?" now his voice was full of worry.

"Oh, no- nothing happened" she was quick to assure him. "Nothing".

"So you called... for nothing?" she could picture perfectly the frown forming on his face; she smiled at the thought. "I mean, I don't mind you calling, but it's a little late, isn't it? _Oh Gods, it sounds like something Robb would say, she thought, only sweeter and without a lecturing tone to his voice._

 She was quick to apologise for calling him at that hour and explained him her situation.

"OK, just text me the address and I'll go pick you up" he said, fully awake now.

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Jon. Really"

"You're a knight in shining armor!" Margaery added in a high-pitched voice. Sansa could only shoot her a panicked look before she started giggling.

There was an awkard silence between the two of them for a moment. At least it was awkard for her, thanks to her friend.

"Uhm..." he began. _Well, there goes to not making it embarrassing, she thought while bringing one of her hands to her face._ "Text me address and I'll see you"

"Yes. Thank you" _Don't say anything stupid..._ "You're a life-saver" _OK, that wasn't bad_

"Yeah, Aemon the Dragonknight got nothing on you, Jonny" Margaery yelled. _That was bad._

"OK, I'll text you the address. Bye" she said, tripping all over her words.

After she texted Jon the Harry's address, she plummeted into the garden chair, shooting another look at her friend. It only pleased Margaery more.

"Look at Sansy pants, all red over Jon the Dark Knight" she teased.

It would be a long hour, waiting for Jon to arrive.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is!!! The first part.  
> I'm planning on doing a modern/college/everyone lives au jonsa series, though it will be more complex and longer (with characters from the books and more intricate storylines).  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. I love to read what you guys think!!  
> Till next time.  
> Love you, guys <3


End file.
